Unforgotten

A rose washed up on a beach, lying there, scarcely touched, its perfect pink gently radiant against the silvery blue of the late afternoon sea. What story does it tell? In whose memory has it been gently cast into the sea to float away until it drops down to the depths? Whose hand has sadly loosened grasp upon its stem, and from whose eyes have tears of sadness flowed? Or has it been dropped by lovers, a symbol of their futures, floating off together? Or maybe it was thrown into the sea in anger, a rejection of a gesture never meant. 

It makes me think of flowers I have scattered, part of far-away temple ceremonies, or a tear-stained evening on a beach when I quietly set sail my little boats of blooms and candles in memory of a friend who’d lost her battle with a long and cruel disease. Unforgotten. 


I’m not sure whether this is an image that can really be considered ‘abstract’, but thanks again to Ingeborg for hosting.